


Faint

by cardinalrachelieu



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinalrachelieu/pseuds/cardinalrachelieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from <a href="http://www.bellarkewritersnetwork.tumblr.com">BellarkeWritersNetwork</a> on tumblr: Bellamy has the flu, but he's a terrible patient and refuses to rest so Clarke has to repeatedly drag him back to his tent when she finds him roaming around camp 'working'. (Credit: bansheeinthedark)</p><p>This is set sometime in the future, after everyone (EVERYONE) returns safely from Mount Weather. The delinquents have declared independence from the Arkers and are currently in the process of building some more durable shelters (log cabins).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faint

The guard – if you could call him that – she’d assigned to his tent was easy to get rid of. Clarke had apparently forgotten that he was just as much a leader of these kids as she was. When it came down to it, the poor kid had buckled under the threat of Bellamy sticking him on outer patrols for a month.

The distinctive stomping of her footsteps is a dead giveaway, but the voice that follows them confirms it. “I swear to _god_ , Blake.”

He knows he only has a few seconds before Clarke wraps her fingers around his arm and drags him back to his tent – she’s done it a half dozen times before this – so he makes the most of them, rapidly firing off instructions to the crew assigned to build cabins.

“Make sure you seal the cracks between the logs with mortar _as you go_ , otherwise nothing will set up right. And Harper, make sure the roofing is— _oof!_ ” Before he can finish the thought, he’s being dragged backwards, a flash of blonde hair skirting his vision.

“One rule. You had exactly one rule to follow.” Her gaze is fixed forward, zeroed in on what he only assumes is his own tent.

He tries twisting around so he can walk properly, but the way she’s holding his arm makes it impossible. After two failed attempts and one loss of footing, he settles for simply walking backwards in tow.

“They don’t know what they’re doing!” He doesn’t actually believe it, but maybe he can convince her to let him stay out a bit longer if she believes they need his guidance. Being cooped up in a ten-by-ten tent was driving him insane. He wasn’t even contagious anymore; he didn’t understand why she insisted on him ‘recovering’ for so— _when did everything start spinning?_

“Yes, they do, Bellamy. They’re more than capable of building a cabin on their own. Hell, they’ve already built three others!”

Clarke assumes the falter in his steps is him tripping again so she doesn’t try to catch him. He nearly drags her down with him when he collapses, vision going bright white as his knees buckle.

When he comes to a moment later, she’s bent over him – hair draping around her face and eyes widened with worry – as his ears regain the ability to process sound.

“Bellamy? _Bellamy?_ ” There’s an urgency that colors her tone, but he can visibly see her features relax when his lips tick up in a smirk.

“I’m fine, princess.” He’s not fine.

She huffs – something between frustration and relief – rocking back on her heels and standing up before offering him a hand. He’s slow to get up, vision threatening to go blurry again as the muscles in his legs straighten him to full height.

“Rest, Bellamy. You need rest.” She loops his arm over her shoulders in a pitiful attempt to support some of his weight. He knows that if he were to actually lean on her they would end right back up on the ground, so he settles for the not-uncomfortable feeling of his arm draped across her.

It’s after she gets him situated back in his bed – for the seventh time now – that she does something unexpected. Shrugging off her jacket, she takes a seat on the ground, spine pressing into the side of his cot.

“What are you doing?” he asks, cautious.

“Babysitting you.” She says it matter-of-factly, hiking up her sleeves in the process so they bunch in the crook of her elbows.

“Is that really nec—“ The glare she shoots him is enough to silence the word before it finishes its path across his lips.

“I’ve found you wandering around camp seven times now. You need to be resting.” Her gaze softens, but she arches a brow before continuing. “Apparently the only way to make sure that happens is if I sit here and make sure you don’t leave again.”

“Well, if I’d known this was all it took to get some alone time with you in my tent, I’d have gotten sick sooner.” He wants to stuff the words back in the second he’s said them, and if anyone ever asks him, he’ll blame the subsequent flushing of his cheeks on a spontaneous relapse of his fever.

There’s a groan hidden underneath her laugh, but there’s no mistaking the smile that pinches her cheeks up so far that her eyes crinkle around the edges. “Rest, Bellamy.”

He does. And when he wakes sometime before dawn the next day, he finds her curled up on the floor next to his cot. His muscles ache and his head is pounding, but he finally feels the strength returning to his limbs.

It’s an easy decision to switch places with her. She can’t be comfortable and her frame is as light as a feather, so he scoops her up in his arms without a second thought, taking special care to not jostle her awake.

He tries not to read too much into it when she moans his name as he sets her down on the bed, eyes still softly closed in sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews give me life, so don't be shy :)


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